Better Then Me
by Carlisle'sCoven
Summary: Song Fic "Better Then Me" by Hinder: Takes place during New Moon. From Edwards POV....R&R!
1. A Change is Gonna Come

**DISCLAIMER!**

**Me:** Okay so while I was sitting in the car one day listing to my ipod, I got this crazy idea for a a story involving my two favorite people. Adam Lambert and his Glitterbaby Tommy Joe! And because I got the idea from listing to a song, I've decided to name each chapter with a song title that has lyrics that go along with the chapter. . .

**Adam**: (walks in from the middle of no where, looking as hot as ever) Hey cool! What's it about?

**Me:** (immediately star struck and speechless)…Um…

**Adam:** (devilishly smirks)

**Tommy:** (comes in behind Adam eating a taco)… Adam, dude where did you go?

**Me:** (completely in awe, because Adam and Tommy are standing right in front of me.)Oh. My. God….

**Tommy: **(sees me staring wide eyed at both him and Adam, and raises his eyebrow)… Who's she?

**Adam: **(looks at me quizzically) What did you say your name was?

**Me:** (stuttering) Ja-Jackie…

**Adam: **(proudly to Tommy) Jackie is writing a story about us.

**Tommy: **(looks at me, mouth full of taco) About what?

**Adam: **(crosses arms) I don't know yet, she was about to explain before you barged in.

**Tommy: **(mouth full, eyes narrow at Adam)

**Adam: **(smiles my direction) Now, what were you saying?

**Me: **(still completely star struck, gazing at them with my mouth hanging open, not saying anything)

**Tommy:** (looks at me worried.) Is she okay?

**Adam: **(purses his lips thinking.) Maybe we should just read it. (takes notebook from my hands.)

**Tommy:** (scarf's rest of the taco.) Okay!

**Me: **(to the readers) I…uh….own nothing…..

* * *

~CHAPTER ONE~

"It's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die

Cause I don't know what's up there beyond the sky

It's been a long, long time coming,

But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will"

–

A Change is Gonna Come

A deafening silence filled the crowded class room to the point of near suffocation. The only sound that could be heard was a sneeze or a cough, both noised though, where scarce. It seemed that every student sitting stiffly in class was afraid to utter a single sound. My ears were even ringing because of the dead air, which was so think I was sure it could be cut with a knife. The entire atmosphere in the class room was heavy, and dual, what else could you expect from a twelfth grade English class? The temperature of the room only added to the torture of high school. Why the school building intended on keeping each room at subzero temperatures was beyond me. Their excuse was that 'It helps keep the students awake.' which I couldn't have been the only one to know that was bull shit. Half the kids in class now were zonked out, drooling all over their fake wooden desks for Christ sake. Meaning the school was wasting their time and money on air conditioning. Of course I even had trouble staying awake, especially during Mrs. Wendell's riveting lectures on 'pronoun antecedent agreement', whatever the hell that was. Most of the time I just zoned out, lost in my own little world, one where I would much rather live in than this fucked up one. I would escape to that place inside my mind every chance I got, where it was me and my guitar, and I was content.

I did my best trying to pay attention even though right now it seemed impossible, but today was one of those days. It didn't help that I woke up in a shitty mood, of course I always woke up that way, it was just worse today. My hair had been a perfectly hideous mess of tangled blond and brown. It had taken me all morning to tame, which for now looked okay. On top of my personal problem, mom had decided to go beige drinking again, leaving her a hung over mess that I had to clean up, but I was used to that.

I couldn't lie anymore, it was too tiring. I used up all my energy acting like everything was okay, my life was fucked up. Plain and simple, there was no way around it, no easier way or less harsh way to put it. It had been ever since my father, Ron, deiced to blow himself away two years ago, after the accident. Ever since that day, I couldn't remember a time when my life seemed remotely normal. I had hoped by now I could say it was getting better, God I wanted to, but I couldn't. Sure I was better now than I was over the summer, those had been the really horrific nights. Not even the drugs could make the nightmares from that time in my life go away. The drugs just added to it all. Living on the streets of East LA was rough. Nothing made those thoughts and images leave, even now they were still there, hiding and lurking deep inside my brain, waiting until the wall would crumble around me again. Like they had after the accident. I could feel the them, those nightmarish thoughts in the back of my mind, they were an annoying itch my finger nails tried to desperately claw away, but could never reach.

For now though, the nightmares had dwindled in frequency. I still had them, like I said, they would be their forever, but the intensities of the dreams were becoming less, and I was actually sleeping most nights. All the ones that I didn't have to go hunting my mother down at the bars or even the allies. Those were the bad days, which were most days sadly. Ever since dad had taken a pistol to his head, she was never the same. She blamed herself, I didn't know why. Ron was unstable; we both knew he was; only the car accident had made it worse. He always had a bad temper that was set off by the slightest little imperfections, but he would never have hurt my mother or me. That was just who he was. The doctors even said that the damage to his brain could make things worse, they had been right. If there was anyone to blame it was the fucking doctors or the drunk driver that hit us. Had the driver not have had a blood alcohol level of .10, and then the damn doctors wouldn't have had to prescribe the depressants that finally got him in the end. If it hadn't have been for those people, then maybe my father wouldn't have committed suicide in our bathroom, and my mother wouldn't drink herself into a drunken stupor every night.

I sighed to myself, releasing all that wasted energy and pain thinking about how shitty my life had turned out to be. Apparently though, my heavy breath caught Mrs. Wendell's attention, as well as the rest of the class. "Mr. Ratliff, would you like to point out what is wrong with sentence number three?" Her beady little eyes bore into me like a thousand tiny knives.

Mrs. Wendell was probably in her mid to late fifties if I had to guess. She was short and pudgy, with glasses that were too small for her round face. Her graying hair was thinning and was in dire need of a new style. On her right arm she wore a skin tone sleeve, resembling a cast that covered her entire hand except for her finger tips. On the first day of school she explained that she was a survivor of lymphoid cancer or something, and that because of the disease she had to wear the sleeve. Without it she had said her entire arm would swell the size of a fucking hippo, which I found amusing.

I looked down at the complex wording on the page in front of me; every letter bunched together making it impossible to read. My vision blurred, and the room fell into one of its unnatural silences that meant every eye in the room was now on you.

"Um. . ." I stalled, scratching the back of my head. How the hell was I supposed to know what was wrong? Why did it matter? By the time I was out of this hell-hole I wouldn't even matter, there is now way I would ever remember any of it. Deciding to save myself from the embarrassment of answering incorrectly I shrugged in my seat. "I don't know." I met her eyes with just as much fire as hers, until she looked away. "Mr. Pittman," she said choosing another victim. "What is wrong with sentence number three?" I smirked to myself having luckily slid out of Wendell's slimy hands.

Monte sat across the room, the third row second desk. I didn't like a lot of people, mainly because I didn't trust anyone, but I had grown up with Monte so it was different. He was the only one who somewhat understood me. I wasn't sure how many times I owed him for saving my ass. He was always there, even during my rough trip this past summer, which I was tired of thinking about for one day. There were quite a number of times where had Monte not been around; I would be six feet under at the age of nineteen. Monte knew the good side and the bad side of me, as well as the part of me that didn't want to deal with my mother every night. Monte thought a moment then answered, incorrectly, but I had to give him credit for trying. Hell I was to chicken to even do that much.

Wendell shook her head, frustrated, and then continued to explain to the class what exactly was wrong with the fucking sentence. The rest of the class followed the same boring routine as always, which consisted of boring lulls of Mrs. Wendell's preaching, and the class not caring, until the bell rang releasing us from the side splitting agony. I shoved my pencil in the pocket of my black and grey striped hoodie, and gathered my books in my arms. Monte, who sat closer to the door then I did, waited for the rest of the kids to pile threw the door, so he could walk with me to lunch.

I hated the hallways. They were always just as crowded as the class rooms, only it was worse because everyone was moving and bumping into one another. Monte and I pushed our way through the thick hordes, elbows knocking elbow, hearing the strings of profanities coming from the other students as Monte shoved them to the side. It was easy for Monte to make his way through the growing mass of kids, but I wasn't exactly built to plow people out of my way like him. Monte wasn't necessarily tall, I think I was actually a little taller than he was, but for what he lacked in height he made up for in broadness. I was skinny, not underweight, it wasn't like I had a disorder or anything, and I just had a high metabolism. Everything I ate seemed to disappear, because I never gained a pound. Being seniors helped a little bit. The freshman were scared enough to stay out of our way, knowing that they were at the bottom of the food chain so to speak, and the other kids knew their place.

The cafeteria was well, disorganized and chaotic. There were three different lunch line, that survived the same repulsing lunches, and yet people still fought over which one to stand in. The same thing went for the round lunch tables, kids fought over chairs or the location of the table, it was idiotic. I understood wanting to set with a friend, after sitting through class it was the least you could do to help yourself, but they didn't have to fight over the stupidest things. I guessed that was why I wasn't much of a people person, people were boneheaded dumb asses. People at this school were anyway. All the jocks were bone heads and all cheerleaders were sluts, harsh but true.

Monte and I managed to get through the groups of kids and found our usual table in the far back corner, away from the bone heads and the sluts, and sat down. There was a loud commotion coming from one of the lunch lines, and I looked to find two kids fighting over their place in the damn line. Did they not realize that no matter where the hell they stood, they were gonna get fed that disgusting shit? I rolled my eyes at them. Almost everything the school served for us to eat looked and smelled questionable. As much as I enjoyed eating, not once had I let a single morsel pass my lips since the very first day my freshman year. Just thinking about the food made my stomach churn uneasily.

Most of the time I just didn't eat, because there was never time in the morning to deal with packing a fucking sandwich, let alone the lack of suitable materials. I had more responsibilities to worry about than what I was going to eat for lunch, like taking care of my drunken mother, and making sure she was still alive every morning. Sometimes Monte would bring me a little extra something, if he didn't forget, or if he was able to sneak enough food from his house.

Monte's family was tight. I liked them okay, they had always treated me kindly, but those people only bought the bare niceties to survive. It was a wonder they even had a television or any other 'expensive' technical device. They were always saving, taking the free handouts and cutting coupons. Who the hell used coupons anymore? It was almost psychotic they way they were about saving money sometimes. I often wondered if he was adopted, because Monte was completely different than those people, I doubted he had a single greedy bone in his body.

Monte pulled out the plastic chair beside me and sat down with his brown paper sack. He opened the small package and turned it over, spilling out a bag of chips, a sandwich and a can of soda, right away my stomach growled angrily upon seeing the food.

"You want some chips man?" Monte asked laughing at my mouthy stomach. It gargled in agreement. I felt bad always taking his food, because I knew how much he loved it.

"Nah, I can last one more period." I told him. He shrugged, unwrapping the clear cellophane coiled around his sandwich. My stomach grumbled again, watching him take a bite, and my mouth started to water. I embraced my torso, as if to cage the angry beast of a stomach inside me, Monte just laughed and handed me the unopened bag of chips. I sighed, defeated but thankful, and took the chips from him.

Lunch was usually uneventful, except for the small quarrels in the lines, but usually just as unentertaining as the rest of the school day. Monte and I would talk, sometimes, about guitar lessons after school, or about how my mom was doing, but that subject never lasted too long. Lunch had always been just me and Monte, until today.

I finished the entire bag of chips Monte had given me, almost as fast as it had taken the few short seconds to open them. Long story short, I was fucking hungry. I had skipped breakfast, like every day it seemed, to help mother, so hopefully she was better when I got home, which I knew was too much to ask for. When I was sure that there were no little crumbs hiding in the small crease at the bottom of the bag, I crumbled it up and tossed it into Monte's paper sack. He just laughed and continued eating his sandwich. Unsatisfied with the small snack, my irritable stomach began protesting again, this time we both ignored it.

"Is there someone sitting here?" a strange voice suddenly asked. Startled out of my day dream I looked up to see who had spoken. I had never seen the kid before in my life. Of course I didn't pay near enough attention to really know who was a regular student and who was new. They were all just faces and names to me. He was tall, with silky red hair that hung past his ears. The rocker cut really didn't match the color, but it wasn't bad. His eyes were icy blue eye. They were a glossy mix of light blue and grey, like storm clouds at sea. His clothes looked somewhat on the expensive side. He was dressed in a pair of black straight leg jeans, which were tucked into a pair of snake skin cow boy boots, a plane v-neck tee shirt and a leather jacket. A chain hung from his belt, which was fastened by a large oval buckle. I was surprised when I glanced down at his finger nails, like mine they were painted a slick black. Besides Monte, this kid was the only other guy at school that wore nail polish. I looked at him for a moment, getting caught in his glossy cobalt eyes.

"No," Monte said, swallowing a mouthful. The kid hesitated a second, biting his lower lip. "Do you mind if I sit with you." he finally asked working up the nerve.

"Go ahead." Monte said, motioning to the chair next to mine. A smile parted his perfect lips as he pulled out the plastic, navy blue chair from under the table, and sat down. As I watched him, I realized how gracefully he moved, every gesture he made seemed to flow like liquid. Not even the metal legs of the chair made the annoying ear piercing scratching sound it usually did when it was drug across the white tile.

"My name is Adam," explained. "I just moved here."

"I'm Monte," he pointed to me "that's Tommy. We didn't just move here." Adam chuckled at Monte's joke. His laugh was genuine and care free, something I wasn't used to hearing. I couldn't even remember the last time I tried to laugh. They way my life was didn't allow for something so enjoyable, not anymore. The most I could ever manage was a smirk, never a full smile. It took too much energy, energy I needed to take care of my mother.

"Where did you move from?" Monte asked taking a swig from his soda can. Monte knew how I felt about people. He knew it took a lot for me to really get used to people. I had too many reasons to not trust strangers, so until I got comfortable, Monte would have to do most of the talking.

"Indiana." he said laughing, slightly embarrassed. His cheeks flushed a soft pink, and then he smiled. Monte wrinkled his nose. "Oo, Sorry I asked." he joked once more. Adam laughed again, the pink fading from his slightly freckled face. "I know right." Adam paused for a minute to take a bite of his own sandwich then continued. "It really wasn't that bad. But I have to say I could get used to California."

Monte and Adam talked the rest of the lunch period, while is sat thinking to myself, and picked the chipping paint from the lunch table. Adam didn't realize it, but I was studding him, watching how he acted around people, around Monte and I. There wasn't one thing I missed sitting there watching him, I didn't do it to be creepy; I did it because I was well, very untrusting. So far though, Adam was passing with flying colors. Perhaps it was his small town attitude that made him so charming and likeable; everyone from California seemed to have an ego the size of the fucking Empire State building. I listened to their conversation, adding my opinion where I felt necessary.

"Where is your next class?" Monte asked, putting the trash from his lunch in the brown paper sack. Adam shifted in his seat, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket, and read the schedule printed on it.

"Government." he said with a frown. My mouth pulled at the corners, the look on his face was almost enough to make me smile.

"I have that next too." I said. "I'll show you where it's at." I stood and put my hands in the pockets of my hoodie. Adam nodded. "Awesome."

Adam and Monte stood up as I started to leave the almost empty lunch room, and threw their bags in the trash. I realized then, that I was glad that Adam had the same class as me next. He was different from almost every kid at the school I had the misfortune of meaning. Adam was from a small town in the Midwest, which meant he wasn't raised around the self-centered pricks that I had been. As much as I liked it just being me and Monte, I couldn't lie, but I wouldn't mind having Adam around.

* * *

**A/N: okay! there is the first chapter... i hope you like it...and i hope you like the disclaimer. i got the idea from Capella85 so yeah... I'm gonna try to make the disclaimer less boreing then the usuall thing every one does on here...so please leave me a review. I will replay to them all! xD**

**~Jackie**


	2. Strut

****DISCLAIMER!**

**Me: **_(finally out of my shock and speachlessness, walks over to where I see Adam sitting.) _Hey… um… sorry about how I acted last chapter. I wasn't expecting you.

**Adam: **_(chuckles his cute chuckles)_ That's okay.

**Me: **_(smiles sheepishly, then notices Tommy sitting on the ground a few feet away, Indian style, with his arms folded tightly at his chest; scowling and mumbling angrily to himself.)_ What's wrong with Tommy? _(walks over to him and kneels down beside him.)_

**Tommy: **_(glares at him) _I know exactly where this is going…for the last time I LIKE GIRLS!

**Me: **_(Stands up, biting lower lip) _…ugh…

**Adam: **_(shaking his head, picks Tommy up under his arms) _Aww calm down Glitters, it's only a story. _(smirks at me) _He's just grouchy cause he hasn't had his coffee this morning. _(winks at me)_

**Me: **_(laughs.) _Will it make you feel better Tommy, if I let you explain to my other readers that this is just a story and in no way true?

**Tommy: **_(glares at me then sighs) _What did you say your name was?

**Me: **Jackie.

**Tommy: **_(mumbles some more, then turns to the readers) _For all of you reading this, Jackie doesn't own Adam or me; Tommy Joe Ratliff. She is just some sick, crazy fan girl with nothing better to do then make up stories about Adam and I being 'together.' Read if you must, but it is all false!

**Me: **_(slightly annoyed) _Do you feel better now?

**Adam: **_(glares at Tommy)_

**Tommy: **_(notices Adams face.) _What?

**Adam: **_(slaps the back of Tommys head)_

**Tommy: **_(rubs the back of his head) _Hey!

**Me: **_(rolls eyes) _Lets just read the chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

~CHAPTER TWO~

"You got somethin' to say, your hands are tied.

Open your mouth, open it wide

Let the freedom begin"

– Strut

Mr. Franke's Government class was located in the very last room, down the longest hall of the entire school. It was so secluded at the end of the hall that there were never any students whatsoever standing around to block my way as I tried to get there. Though it wasn't like I was in any hurry to get to class, why would I be? It was government; I have no plans on becoming a politician so I saw no need to take the fucking class. By teaching me, and most of the student body I was sure, they were wasting their time.

Adam and I stopped at his locker so he could grab the supplies he needed, then he followed me through the hordes to my locker so I could get my own books. The ugly mustard yellow lockers were arranged alphabetically, meaning it was a good walk pushing through students just to get from Adam's locker to my locker. Due to the number of students, L was a long way from R, and it was an even longer route from R to Franke's room.

As we both made our way down the hall, I kept close behind Adam, giving him the directions to the room. He moved effortlessly through the crowded halls. He had even less of a problem than Monte did. Each movement, every gesture or twitch was smooth and swift and easy for Adam, it was breathtaking to watch him move, and I had to admit I was somewhat jealous. No one at school moved the way he did, or at least not enough for me to notice them None of them moved the elegant way he did. I followed Adam's tall figure, which towered over me by almost a foot, until Franke's room came into view.

"There it is." I said pointing to room number three; Adam nodded and entered the class room, with Mr. Franke nowhere to be found. Besides Adam and I, there was only one other student, leaving the ugly blue chairs empty. Most of them were still out in the busy hall, talking to friends before the bell counted them tardy.

I stood with Adam in the front for a second, feeling obligated to, but he just motioned me to go take my seat in the very back of the class room. Adam waited by Mr. Franke's desk, standing awkwardly alone, biting his bottom lip and scuffing the sole of his boots against the dirty white tile. As I sat and waited for class to begin, I tried not to stare, but for some reason my eyes were glued on the kid from Indiana. For someone who grew up in a Midwestern town, next to billions of acres of corn fields, Adam seemed to be adapting to the life and style of Hollywood already. He didn't look like he was from a small town; he didn't even have a dorky sounding accent. The first thing that came to mind when I tried to picture Adam as someone from the small farming communities was, him wearing a pair of faded overalls, with a straw hat and a pitchfork. Stereotypical of me I know, it was in my blood as a California native, so at times I sounded like a dick. I had never in my life left the state, so when I thought of a small town, farmers were what came to mind first. Lord only knows what they thought of people from L.A. Movie stars and glamour probably would be the first things to pop into their minds. I laughed humorlessly to myself. If my life was even half as glamorous as everyone thought it should be, I would sleep better at night.

I wrinkled my nose upon imagining Adam dressed as a farmer. I didn't want to, he was too beautiful the way he was. Sure maybe the red hair didn't quite fit his edgy rocker look but that was an easy fix. I changed my hair color all the time, I wasn't even sure when the last time my hair was its natural color. My hair though now, was due for another dye. My brown roots were beginning to consume the blond and it was starting to look bad. I always kept a little money from what I made doing gigs, just to keep my hair a lighter color. For a natural resident of Cali, I was anything but tan. I hoped by keeping my hair lighter, the contrast would be less dramatic with my dark hair.

I glanced up at the clock hanging near the doorway, watching the red minute had inch its way closer to the tardy bell that would make all the kids in the hall late. I shifted in my uncomfortable chair, tired of the blue plastic already, as Mr. Franke walked into the room with his usual cup of coffee and stack of miscellaneous papers. He walked right past Adam, not even taking an upward glance and sat at his desk. Adam waited politely, still biting his lip.

How could Franke just by pass a human being? Especially one standing in such close proximity? I took a deep breath, calming myself, being mad only wasted energy I would need later. The students from the hall began to accumulate into the room, most ignoring Adam, while others glanced at him and started to whisper amongst themselves. To most of them it was no big deal that our school had added a new face. I'd bet we got a new kid every other month, so no one really seemed to care that Adam was here.

By the time that every student was sitting in their chair, Adam was still being ignored by Mr. Franke and the bell rang to start class. Mr. Franke though, either didn't hear it ring, or just didn't care. He opened his lap top, looking intently at the glowing screen, paying no attention to anyone. Especially Adam. I looked at him standing up there alone. He caught my glance and a crooked smile painted his lips. I felt sorry for him standing up there alone, just because I knew how much I hated being the center of attention, even if right now he wasn't. I hated people staring at me with their buggy eyes, but most of the time I was just looked over. A lot of the kids had no interest in Adam, while others seemed to show a mild reaction to the new red head, and they whispered back and forth. I wanted to know what they were saying, by their tones though, it wasn't hard to guess they were already being rude, and they hadn't even given him a chance. Although as of now, I was still watching him, waiting for some indication that he was a bad egg that I needed to throw out, but a little part of me didn't want him to go away even if he was going to cause a problem.

The longer Adam stood up in front being ignored, the more I wanted to punch Mr. Franke, who was usually on my okay list for teachers, and the more I listened to the kids a few rows over the more I wanted to punch them out as well. Finally, before I could do something that would get my ass hauled down to the principal's office, Franke decided to grace Adam with his absolute attention. Adam explained that he was a transfer, while Franke looked around the room for a place to seat him, in the already cramped class room. I knew that he wouldn't set anywhere near me, one, because I did not possess that much luck and two because the nearest empty desk was still three rows over. Sitting in the very back of the class suited me though, so I wasn't gonna complain. At least no one could stare at me in the very back of the class. The kids I sat around were a different story, and it was difficult not to complain about sitting within touching distance of them.

The kid that sat in front of me was not only ugly, but he was possibly the biggest fuckin' pot head in the entire school. All the jack ass talked about was his weed, and how and when he was gonna get some more. It didn't help that the girl next to him was just as addicted as he was. I didn't even wanna think of some of the other shit that she talked about doing, because most of it made me wanna heave. This bitch wasn't small either; quite frankly she herself was the definition of the word 'fat'. Every article of clothing she wore was two or three sizes too small, making disgusting rolls of blubber pour out in areas that were never meant to be seen. It was fucking gross. Whether she thought she looked good as a whale squeezed into as potato sack was one thing, but I sure as hell didn't find it attractive. To add on top of all that, they both reeked of tobacco most of the time, which made my stomach queasy. I admit, I was guilty of drug abuse. But not once had I ever smoked any of that shit. Most people had a thing with needles; I had a thing about inhaling toxic fumes. The logic sucks, but at the time it made since.

Now the two girls that sat next to me where the exact opposite of "Miss Two Sizes Too Small". Together I doubted they weighed two hundred pounds. They were part of that rich group of kids that only wore clothes that where 'in style' and carried the most ridiculous over-sized purses in the entire world. They might as well been air plane carry-ons. Jesus, I understood why a chick needed a purse, but they didn't need to carry around everything from their fucking bed room in it! It was amazing some of the things I had seen them pull out of those things. Their nails were much the same. They were always shiny and made of polished plastic, with corny little designs on them. There was absolutely no reason for a girl to spend a fortune on stupid long plastic nails, which were too long for them to do anything with. I knew for sure that guys were not paying attention to girls finger nails. Their hair as another thing, it was always fixed neatly every class, never moving from its twisted curls and long spirals, they must have spent a shit load on hair spray. I mean their hair never fucking moved. I wasn't natural. Those two would sit over there, squeaking and fussing over something un-important the entire class, weather it was about an upcoming shopping trip or what they planned on doing with their boyfriends over the weekend. I just knew that whatever they talked about, it was always discussed in way too much detail.

I sighed, losing more of that energy that I needed so badly, having wasted it up on a couple of pot heads and a pair of sluts. Adam thanked Mr. Franke, showing him more politeness then I would have if that had been me, and went and sat in his seat across the room. I was glad when I realize Franke had made up for his rude welcoming by placing him by fairly decent people; ones that I knew wouldn't judge him anyway. Adam might have been placed far from me, but he wouldn't have to deal with hearing what someone planed on doing this weekend, or who someone planed on doing this weekend.

Adam flashed me a quick smile, once he was situated, leaning forward so he could see past the long row of kids to see me. The right side of my lips curled into a faint smirk. I wanted to give him more than just a shitty sneer, but I couldn't bring myself to do it, not with how my life was. Adam was growing on me though, I had just met the kid less than an hour ago, and I already found myself getting used to him being around. There was something about him that I couldn't ignore. I never got close to people, or at least I tried not to. There had been too many of them that I looked up too and were now gone, dead and alive. My mother was at the top of the list, as a kid she was my hero, now it felt like she had died too.

When class finally began- after Franke was done playing on his laptop, I could feel the weight returning to my eyelids. Last night was the first full night of sleep I had gotten in God only knows how long, and it felt so damn good, but sleep deprivation was beginning to take over the longer I sat through these boring classes. I couldn't help that Mr. Franke's voice was so mono tone that it would have put the dead to sleep, he was almost as bad a Wendell, and I liked Franke, most of the time.

Deciding he didn't feel like talking, he made us read section six of chapter seven in our books, which covered the First Amendment of the Constitution. Everyone groaned, pulling their books form the small metal basket attached to the legs of the chair, and opened to the correct page. Instead of reading, knowing if I tried I would defiantly fall asleep, I looked over at Adam. He got elegantly out of his chair, and walked up to the teacher's desk, Franke had obviously forgotten to give him a book.

Of the entire class, I was the only one watching the ordeal, not caring to read the literature. None of it made any since to me anyway. Adam explained his situation to Franke, who got up, leaving Adam to stand alone again at the front of the class, while he looked for a book. Adam bit his lip again, and I smirked again, finding his little habit amusing. Mr. Franke came back to his desk empty handed, and took one last look under the piles of papers stacked endlessly on his shrinking desk.

"Um..." Mr. Franke droned, rubbing his head, looking around the room. "Linda? Could you share your book with Adam until I can get him his one?"

My nose wrinkled, I wasn't about to let that bitch share her book with Adam. The girl sitting beside me, one of the ones with the fake nails didn't answer Mr. Franke right away. I could tell she didn't want to share her book with him; Linda was giving him the "you're a freak" look the entire time he was standing up there.

"He can share my book." I insisted, hoping to save Adam from the wench beside me. As soon as I said something she turned her glare my way, which I returned by rolling my eyes. For a moment it looked as though Franke was going to disagree, but his expression changed. "That's fine." he said, going back to set at his desk.

With a smiled on his face, Adam swiftly pulled around the closest empty desk, scooting it as close as possible to mine.

"Thank you." he whispered as he made himself as comfortable as he could in the small seat.

"No problem."

I looked down at the book open on my desk and turned it so we could both read it easily without having to break both our necks. Adam leaned closer to me, so he could see the small print, and my heart began beating faster usual, he was so close. I took a breath, calming myself. What the hell was that about?

The section over the Constitution should win the best award to the most boring, mind numbing section in the entire text. I mean the authors really out did themselves. While I barely skimmed the wordy paragraphs over our freedoms of speech, religion etc, Adam was reading everything in fine detail. I finished every page before he did, so I waited as patiently as I could, chipping the black polish off of my nails. The room was quiet again, but this time it wasn't an uncomfortable silence like earlier in English, and I took this time to zone out again, becoming lost blissfully in my own world.

Suddenly, a loud bang rang threw the room, making everyone almost jump out of their seat, and me curse under my breath. Mr. Franke had a bad habit of whacking his hollow wooden podium with a broom stick, creating a sound similar to a gun shot. I could still remember the first time he had done that last year in US History. The room had fallen deathly silent, like just a second ago, and I had nodded off, for just a second and then BANG! The mother fucker slammed the side of the podium almost making me shit my pants. Since that day, I had learned to either expect it, or not fall asleep. I was going to have to add zone out to that list now.

People began complaining, whining about the unexpected noise, only making Franke laugh. Adam had taken the whole thing better then the kids who were used to it. His head simply jerked up, but his body didn't jump in the least.

"Some of you guys were sleeping." Mr. Franke joked, hitting his palm against the flat bottom of the wooden stick. "You guys finished yet?" he stretched his neck, looking at everyone table.

Some of the class nodded, others shook their heads but most said nothing, and started to close their books, but I knew better. Adam's hand began to flip the front cover shut, but I stopped him just as Franke took a deep sigh that meant the cogs and wheels were turning in his head. More than likely conjuring up an activity that would make me regent coming to school today. It seemed every other class period we were doing group projects, which were my least favorite things to do. No one in this class liked me well enough to choose me to be in their group, so I always either ended up doing it by myself, if at all, or barging in on a group of people I could tolerate longer than ten seconds. Of course now I had Adam, as long as he didn't mind dealing with me as a partner, or as long I decided he wasn't a dick. For some reason I highly doubted that he was one, actually I was more concerned of what he would think of me. It wasn't exactly easy to get along with me; I had problems that couldn't be cured.

Franke smacked his fist against the top of the broom stick again. "Tell ya what," he began. "Partner up, and on a piece of paper, tell me which one of those freedoms covered by the first amendment is the most important to you. I'll give you oh..." he looked at his watch "...about twenty minutes then we will discuss what each of you wrote."

Everyone, including me, and except for Adam groaned in protest. He always assigned pointless shit. I took out my note book, flipped to a clean page and pulled my pencil from my pocket. The room started shifting as people moved to sit next to their partners of choice, while I stayed where I sat and so did Adam. I pursed my lips. Franke was always vague on what exactly he wanted us to talk about, because no matter what we wrote, he always had something else to add, and it pissed me off.

"So. . ." I let the word flow from my mouth slowly, breaking the silence accumulating between the two of us. "What is the most important part of the first amendment?" I was expecting just as much false enthusiasm as I had given him, but got real enthusiasm instead. His blue eyes lit up at the question, as if he had been waiting to reveal the answer all day.

"Freedom of Speech" he stated matter-o-factly, sliding the note book from my desk onto his, along with my pencil. Adam immediately began scratching words onto the paper as I watched finding his penmanship just as fluid and beautiful as he was. The fifteen or twenty minutes that Franke gave us to do the little groups papers was usually more than enough time to get it all completed, but Adam was in the zone, writing quickly to make certain that everything he had to say got put on paper. I felt the need to ask if he wanted me to join another group, because he sure as hell looked more than capable of doing the assignment by himself, then I remembered that I hated most of the kids in this class, so I stayed where I was. After a while, Adam laid the once sharp pencil back on the desk, which now was in dire need of re-sharpening. It was a wonder the fuckin thing wasn't smoking. The sheet of note book paper that was on Adam's desk was filled completely to the bottom with words all made in fancy lettering.

"All done." Adam said with a smile on his face, obviously proud of his work. I leaned over slightly, glancing at what he had passionately written the size of every word made it difficult to read. "Cool." I said, slouching back down in to the hard plastic chair.

We both waited the rest of whatever time was left silently, while Adam read through his paper making corrections where they were needed. I was anxious to know what the new kid had written so intently. Never in my life had I seen a kid in this class put forth that much effort for a stupid paper. At eighteen and nineteen, no kid gives a fuck about the damn government, didn't the teachers know that? I was sure they did, but they kept on trying, and I had to give them credit for doing so, even if they were failing miserably.

The atmosphere of the room shifted as students got done, they became more talkative. Noticing, Mr. Franke stood up from his desk. He grabbed the broom stick from its place in the corner again and took his spot in the front of the class. "Whatcha' guys got?" he asked looking around the room. There was a long pause then Franke spoke again. "Luke, what did you and Tyler come up with?"

Mr. Franke looked at the group sitting in the opposite corner at the very back of the class room. Luke, who was all brawn and no brains, sighed, not wanting to be the first to read, and began to read what was on his paper. After a while, listening to Luke talk was like listening to baby babble, his words all ran together sounding like slurred mumbles of a drunken man. Hell, I didn't have a clue to what he was talking about, every now and then I could make out a "the" or an "and" but that was about it. I doubted anyone could understand him. When Luke finished his dual murmuring, Franke looked just as clueless as the rest of the class. Looking at the back wall, he thought a moment, then started preaching about the freedom of religion, obviously not sure what Luke had just said.

Again I tried to pay attention to the lesson, but my eyelids started drooping and my coherency was slipping away. Adam nudged me with his elbow, catching me before sleep could claim me as one of its victim's. I sat up straight up in my chair, blinking a few times to keep myself awake, but I lazily slouched again, resting my chin on my palm. I promised myself I would sleep through the night tonight, otherwise I was gonna kill someone. Trying to stay awake in class is a lot harder job than most people might think.

Class was dragging on, longer than usual, and Franke called on a different group, which was now speaking. Rebecca spoke much more clearly, but her nasally tones aggravate me; she sounded like she couldn't breathe through her nose. I put my head on the desk squeezing my eyes shut and pulling the hair at the back of my head, realizing listing to Rebecca made class seem longer and more tortured than usual.

When she was finished, Mr. Franke rambled some on different dentals Rebecca discussed, meaning she was either wrong on her explanation or she just didn't hit the right topic that he was looking for. After that, he called on more of the students, and I unsuccessfully fought off sleep. Adam would every now and then look over and smile, nudge me slightly with his elbow, and I would blink back awake. When it was our turn to go, I wasn't prepared.

"Tommy, what did you and Adam come up with?" Mr. Franke asked.

"Um..." I looked over at Adam, indicating that I had no idea what to say, he smiled softly and began to read.

"As many people know, the first amendment of our constitution allows citizens of this great nation many freedoms, such as the freedom of religion and petition, but the part of this amendment that I feel the most strongly about is the freedom that grants us freedom of speech and/or expression. I feel that too many times in this country a person's freedom of speech and expression is taken from them, no one should be discriminated against for who they are or the way they act. Our speech and expression is what makes this nation thrive, by limiting what someone can and cannot do because of the way they are and what they say is wrong. Our government creates laws that restrict people from being who they want and know themselves to be. I feel that as long as what we do and say doesn't physically harm someone then I strongly believe that our freedom of speech is by far the most important part of our first amendment. Everyone has a voice, big or small, let it be heard and let the freedom begin."

The room was silent when Adam stopped talking, not even Mr. Franke seemed to have anything to add. Adam's paper spoke words of true passion, every remark out of his mouth captured the class's attention, and for once I even stayed awake. There had to be an alternative motive behind his speech, he felt too strongly for what he had written for there not to be extra reasoning. I brushed it off, telling myself I was just being paranoid. Mr. Franke stood there a moment, and then glanced at his watch, having nothing more to say after Adam's excellent explanation.

"I'm not giving you any homework." he said walking back to his desk.

There was five long minutes left in class before we were free, and the students pushed the mangled desks back into the tight rows they had previously been in, grabbed their books and lined up in front of the closed door. Adam and I stayed in our seats, and I stacked my books in front of me, putting my pencil back in my pocket.

"Were you okay with everything that I said?" Adam asked quietly.

"Hell yeah, that was great." I said. Relief washed over his features "Okay. I'm sorry I didn't let you write anything."

I laughed slightly, "I don't mind. What you wrote sounded a hell of a lot better than anything I would have written."

Adam chuckled softly, a delightful sound that made me body tingle. There was something about Adam that intrigued me. He was different, and flawless in a good way. He wasn't like everyone else in school who acted like robots. They wore the same things every day, did what everyone else was doing, and they never seemed to get tired of the same old routine. I could tell that Adam wasn't going to be one of those robot zombies; he would do everything in his power to be himself.

When the bell finally rang, the entire student body standing by the door pushed through the small opening at once, like a bunch of fan girls at a boy band concert. Adam and I simply stood up and walked out together behind them. Another day of school had ended.

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**A/N: That was Chapter two! haha let me know what you thought! and if i need to go and fix any grammer mistake...i reread it like 3 times and caught a lot of stuff...but prolly not all of it..haha xD **

**And thank you to all that reviewed last chapter! you make my day!**

**REAVIEW! PLEASE!**


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